


His Desire

by YunaFire



Category: True Blood
Genre: Blood Drinking, Blow Jobs, Dubious Consent, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-17
Updated: 2014-01-17
Packaged: 2018-01-09 02:32:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,057
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1140394
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YunaFire/pseuds/YunaFire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kink Meme prompt: "non-con, bonus points for it being broadcast on TV." Takes place during <a href="http://youtu.be/0MszBJKyKnE">'Praise His Light'</a>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	His Desire

_"And if, uh, I were less of a Christian I'd say 'Told ya!' But I of course take no joy in this dark time-"_ As if on cue, that's when the studio lights went out.

Steve heard sounds of a fight, fists hitting flesh in ways that'd make the recipient not get up for a good long while. He had no idea who had broken into his studio, and frankly, wasn't sticking around to find out. He slid out of his throne chair, and stealthily began to crawl through the darkness. The exit wasn't far. He would be there soon, and then—

"I rather like you on your hands and knees, Steve Newlin. It is most… _fortunate_." Steve heard the unmistakable voice of Russell Edington, just before something heavy pressed down on his back, efficiently pinning him to the floor. "How like a cowardly worm you are, crawling on your belly." Then, casually spoken to someone across the room, "Do turn the lights back on, would you?" 

The order was obeyed, and the bright studio lights returned. From his position on the ground, Steve couldn't see who Russell had with him. Other vampires, he presumed. Or maybe just one. That's all he'd need to take out Steve's two-man filming crew.

"Better to be a worm," he grunted, and dared to look over his shoulder at the vampire towering above him. "Then a hell-beast of Satan!" He declared bravely. Russell threw back his head and laughed uproariously. Steve gulped, staring wide-eyed at the ancient vampire. An image of that infamous newscast where Russell ripped out the spine of the anchorman flashed vividly in his mind. Fear made his heart quicken.

Steve felt the weight lifted off him as Russell stepped back. "Strip."

"I... I will _not_!" Steve hated the whiny, nasal quality his voice had. His protest only amused Russell, who spread his arms wide. Standing in front of the throne, he appeared majestic.

"Come now, don't disappoint your audience!" Russell was clearly enjoying himself, grinning widely. His fangs descended with a loud snap.

"My…? Oh, dear God!"

"He won't help you, dear boy." In a flash of movement, Russell pulled Steve to his knees, using his tie like a leash. It wrapped tightly around his throat and Steve gasped for air. He accidentally looked up. His eyes locked on the vampire's, and then he couldn't look away. 

" _Strip_." Russell repeated, this time a command. Lost in a trance, Steve obeyed.

As he removed his clothes, Russell sat on the throne, looking like he _belonged_ there. He watched the young man intently as his layers disappeared. Meanwhile, the cameras rolled, continuing their broadcast. Privately funded channel meant it couldn't be taken off the air. Anyone channel surfing would see _everything_. 

The sight on their screens now would be Steve Newlin, the son of the well-respected reverend, bare-ass naked and on his knees before the 'vampire terrorist', Russell Edgington, who was most certainly enjoying himself.

"How he looks at me with admiration," Russell said, smirking to the camera. The audience couldn't see Steve's expression. "Of course you wonder if I glamored him." The King shrugged. "Maybe I did. But more importantly, consider this," He paused for dramatic effect. " _Maybe I didn't_."

He looked down at Steve, and placed a hand on his cheek as though the human was a favored pet. "Actions speak louder than words don't they, boy?" With his other hand he undid the front of his pants. "Praise me, as you would your dead God." Steve shuddered with revulsion and mentally tried to resist. But Russell's hold over him, mental as well as physical, urged him forward. _Survival_ , Steve told himself, _it was only survival_. That he had really no choice in the matter did little to offer comfort.

Steve took him in his mouth, too hastily, and gagged. Russell chuckled, and Steve flushed with embarrassment. Russell's hand moved to the back of Steve's neck, idly massaging, and effectively keeping Steve in place. He forced himself to slow his movements, and thought of sunshine and Bible verses; _anything_ to take his mind off what he was doing. 

Russell made that _impossible_. Whether it was a purring compliment, or moan of pleasure, or 'helpful' instruction, his voice, somehow reminding Steve of honey-flavored cough syrup, broke through his thoughts and forced his attention back to _him_. 

After what seemed like hours to Steve, the vampire finally surged forward with a long moan of delight, causing Steve to gag yet again, which he was certain was intentional, and Russell came. Steve tried to move away, but was held firmly in place by a hand entangled in his once meticulously styled hair. He had no choice but to swallow, the vile taste alone making him want to throw up. The moment he could, he moved away, coughing.

"Dis…gust…ing…" He said breathlessly, and only then realized he wasn't glamored. When had that stopped? He tried to remember. 

"How Puritan of you to deny what you want," Russell commented with a tiresome sigh. Steve knew what he referred, knew how his body betrayed him, and he tried to curl up and move out of the camera's view. "N-no, I—"

For the second time, Steve felt himself lifted, this time by his neck. Within seconds Russell had stood, holding Steve tightly to him, the human's back to the vampire's front. Steve had no time to struggle.

"Don't hide from what you are! Let your audience see you in _all_ your glory!" Russell said jubilantly. Indeed, in this position, the camera caught every detail. He couldn't cover himself up. With one hand, Russell held both of Steve's in a vice like grip between their bodies.

" _Please…_ " Steve begged, not entirely what he was begging _for_. The vampire's cool hand was on his chest, and moving lower. Humiliation mixed with eagerness, the feelings at war with one another, and Steve struggled uselessly.

"Oh I just _love_ how you whine…" Russell said, his voice a low purr by Steve's ear, as his hand grasped Steve. His movements, from centuries of practice, were expert and precise. Steve mumbled Bible verses under his breath, voice wavering with each second, until he was left whimpering. When he felt fangs pierce his neck, he came undone with a loud cry.

All the while, the camera captured every second.

**Author's Note:**

> [Originally](http://yunafire.livejournal.com/297588.html) written in 2010. I did not know until very recently how many people liked it! So I'm posting it here away from LJ. A sequel is currently in the 'working up the nerve to write smut and/or multi-chapter fic again' stages.


End file.
